


You Told the Drunks I Knew Karate

by cap_and_cyborg



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6855847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cap_and_cyborg/pseuds/cap_and_cyborg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the record, Bucky doesn't know karate.  That doesn't stop Steve from telling the drunks he's distracting that Bucky does.  The night gets interesting from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Told the Drunks I Knew Karate

**Author's Note:**

> "I do the dumbest things for you.  
> Why do I do the dumbest things for you?  
> I would be safer on my own.  
> I didn't care, you were the most exciting thing I'd ever known."

“You know, this would be a lot easier with two working arms.  How did you manage to talk me into this again?” Bucky asked Natasha, not daring to look down.

 

“Oh, c’mon.  You’re not even seven feet off the ground and you’re already complaining?” she replied, raising an eyebrow at him while doing that infuriating half-smirk she was so good at.

 

“Save that look for your boyfriend.  He usually deserves it anyway,” Bucky muttered into the ladder rung in front of his face. 

 

“Yeah, but he isn’t the one conquering his fear of heights right now.  I don’t think he’s ever had a fear of heights actually.”

 

Stalling for time, Bucky said, “He does say that he sees better from a distance.”

 

“So he does.  You gonna keep going any time soon?” Nat asked.

 

Taking a deep breath, Bucky raised his foot and put it on the next rung, then his other foot on the same one.  It was hard with his prosthetic, but he found a rhythm so that he could rush to grab hold of the next rung while both feet were firmly planted.  Slowly, so slowly, he made his way up to the roof one rung at a time.  Once there, he scrambled as close to middle as he could with the incline.  He still hadn’t looked down.

 

Nat heaved herself into view and joined him.  She reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a flask.  After taking a swig, she offered it to Bucky.

 

He sniffed it, just to make sure it wasn’t poison.  Just because Natasha had just drank it didn’t mean anything.  Bucky was pretty sure she could withstand most deadly poisons anyway.

 

She rolled her eyes.  “It’s vodka, asshole.  Live up to your major and drink up.”

 

“That’s not fair.  You have vodka flowing through your veins.”

 

“I can’t help that I’m Russian, Barnes.  And you’re stalling again.”

 

He took a drink.  Not as big as Natasha had, but he was proud that he outwardly seemed unaffected by the burn going down his throat.  Or he hoped so anyway.

 

They sat there on the roof of the run down house they lived in with Clint.  The stars were probably shining above them, but with the amount of city lights, there was no way to tell.  Instead of straining his eyes to try to see the stars, Bucky looked out onto the city.  Their house was raised from part of it, and he made his own constellations of the lights in the windows and street lamps.

 

Bucky was just starting to relax, taking another chug of vodka, when he heard loud voices below them.  That wasn’t so unusual, as they lived near the frat houses and sometimes the partiers flowed their way going home, but this seemed different.

 

Scooting forward and looking carefully over the edge, Bucky saw a smaller guy with blonde hair yelling at three bigger guys who were surrounding a woman.  Bucky could tell the guys had been drinking.  He noticed, in the light from a nearby street lamp, that the solo man had tattoos going up his arm and his head shaved short on one side.  Bucky thought it was a good look for him, but it might just be the vodka talking.

 

“That doesn’t look good,” Nat muttered beside him.

 

“Nope,” Bucky agreed darkly.  “You help the girl, I’ll back up the little dude?”

 

Natasha smiled, a predator with her prey in her sights.  “Sounds like a plan.”

 

She went down the ladder first, going faster than Bucky thought he would ever be able to.  He was halfway down himself when he heard the smack of flesh hitting flesh.  Turning on the ladder, he saw the little, hot dude on the ground, already trying to pick himself up again.

 

“Hey!” he shouted, trying to get the rather menacing drunks' attention and go down the ladder faster at the same time.  Unfortunately, Bucky had never been all that good at multitasking.  He felt one foot slip out from under him and his hand didn’t grab the next rung in time.  Next moment, he was crashing the last five feet, landing on his side.  He felt the impact most in his shoulder on his stump side, but made himself get up.

 

When he got to where the group was congregated, the little guy was yelling again. This close, Bucky could see the road burn down one side of his body from when he fell and the blood on his lip from when he was struck.

 

“I don’t give a shit about you hitting me, just let the lady go.  You are making her uncomfortable and she doesn’t want your attention so just let her leave, alright?”

 

He kept talking, letting Natasha sneak behind the guys and pull the girl quietly away.

 

“She doesn’t mind, do ya dollface?” one of the drunks asked, turning to look at the woman but Natasha had her a block away already.

 

“Hey!” another of the men shouted, starting after the two women.  Bucky took the opportunity to grab the hoodie of the man running and pull it towards the ground, making him slam into it and lose his breath.  Bucky stood, putting himself between where Nat and the woman had gone and the two remaining guys.

 

“Now, we don’t have to make this ugly.  I don’t wanna hurt you guys.  But if you try to go after my friend, I will stop you,” Bucky said.

 

“He means it.  He knows karate,” the tattooed guy said, coming up beside him, wiping the blood off his mouth.

 

If Bucky was momentarily distracted by other guy's lips, that was his business.

 

And wait.  What?!

 

He most definitely did NOT know karate.  Like, at all.  What was this guy talking about?

 

Not wanting to argue with the guy right at the moment though, he took a stance that came straight out of a movie he and Clint had watched together.  The drunks did not seem intimidated.  Shit.

 

“Oh yeah, karate kid?  What are you going to do?” one of them sneered.

 

Bucky weighed his options.  Natasha had probably gotten the woman far enough away that the drunks couldn’t trouble her anymore.  So he could either stay here and fight and maybe win or maybe lose or…

 

“This,” he said, and grabbing the small guy’s hand in his, which was surprising large for someone so petite ( _ Focus, Barnes!) _ , he sprinted across the lawn of his house, through the backyard, and led the drunks on a merry chase of his neighborhood.

 

After a few minutes of running, though, he realized the guy he was holding hands with was breathing hard even if he was out of shape.  Shit. Ducking into the alley next to the little supermarket down the street, he hid them behind the dumpster.

 

Once the drunks had gone past, swearing and threatening, he turned to the guy.

 

“Do you have an inhaler?” he demanded, already patting down the guy’s jacket.

 

The guy pointed, and Bucky scrambled for that pocket.  After taking two puffs and gradually deeper breaths, the guy raised his head and looked at Bucky.

 

Holding out a hand, he said, “Thanks for that, man.  I’m Steve Rogers.”

 

Shaking it, Bucky replied, “James Barnes, but call me Bucky.  Most of my friends do anyway.”

 

Steve ducked his head, smiling slightly.  “Alright, Bucky.”

 

He stood from where he had slid down the wall before.  “Do you know where we are?”

 

“Yeah, it’s still pretty close to my house.  C’mon.  I don’t think the buses are still going so we’ll have to hoof it.”

 

Steve snorted.  “As long as it’s slower than before, that’s cool with me.”

 

Bucky smiled sheepishly.  “Yeah, sorry.  Seemed like the best way out of the situation.  You do know that I don’t actually know karate right?”

 

“That was my try at an intimidation tactic.  Didn’t work, but it was worth a shot.  I still wish we had stayed though.  I don’t like bullies.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Bucky picked up Steve’s hand in his, and supporting it with his stiff prosthetic hand, began to pick gravel out of the palm.  “Sometimes you have to save yourself too.”

 

As Bucky plucked out a particularly big piece of stone out, Steve let out a hiss.  Bucky looked up to apologize, only to realize just how close they had gotten.  This close, he could see another tattoo peeking out of the collar of Steve’s shirt and how there was a bit of green interspersed in the blue of his eyes.

 

“Sorry,” he murmured, mesmerized.

 

Steve shrugged, careful not to jostle his hand out of Bucky’s.  “I can handle it,” he whispered.

 

Bucky blinked and quickly looked away before he did something stupid.  He didn’t know Steve at all.  Didn’t know if he was attracted to guys. Didn’t know if he was in a relationship. Didn’t know if he wanted to be in a relationship.

 

Wait.  Did he want to be in a relationship?  More importantly, did he want to be in a relationship with Steve?

 

After walking a block with him, Bucky realized that yeah, he wanted to be with Steve.

 

Not only did he have a distaste of bullies, Bucky learned as they walked and talked that Steve was an art student and one year below Bucky in school, both of which explained why Bucky hadn’t seen him before today.  He was an only child, but laughed when Bucky told him about all the shenanigans he and his sister had gotten into when they were kids.  Steve had seven tattoos, and Bucky definitely tried to count how many he could see.  Then he tried not to think about seeing the ones under Steve’s clothes because that was not something he needed to contemplate in public.

 

Bucky was halfway tempted to just keep walking when he got back to his house, but forced himself to stop and say, “This is my place.”

 

Steve looked at it.  It wasn’t much.  Small, sort of rugged.  But it had been theirs for half a year now, and Bucky was kinda attached, so he wanted Steve to approve.  Because he was starting to get attached to Steve, too.

 

“I like it.  It’s got personality,” Steve concluded.

 

Chuckling, Bucky said, “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

 

Steve smiled at him and Bucky was lost.

 

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bucky ducked down and pressed a kiss to Steve’s hand, which he was still holding.  Taking a deep breath, he looked up again and said quietly, his voice breaking slightly with nerves, “All better.”

 

Steve mouth was slightly agape.  But as Bucky watched, he broke into a huge grin, his eyes squinting as he beamed at Bucky.

 

“I’d do all of tonight again if I got another one of those,” he said.

 

“Or you could just ask, punk,” Bucky said, exasperated and relieved at the same time.

 

“Hey, I am not a punk.  Don’t make assumptions based off of looks.”

 

“I wasn’t.  I was making a conclusion based off of personality.”

 

“Yeah, well, you’re a jerk,” Steve said, but he was still smiling.

 

They stood there, under the street lamp where their night had started.

 

“Um, do you wanna come in?” Bucky asked finally.

 

Steve gave him a considering look.  “Look, I pull crazy hours to get projects done.  I have asthma, heart problems, and a lot of other health issues.  And I get into fights a lot.”

  
Bucky snorted.  “I’m a senior working on my thesis for my Russian studies major.  I have one arm.  As for the fights,” he said, tugging on Steve’s arm in the direction of his house, Steve following instantly, “I guess I’ll have to actually learn karate.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off the Zoey Van Goey song "You Told the Drunks I Knew Karate." I would highly recommend giving it a listen.


End file.
